Rise of the Forgotten
by The Hands of Thoth
Summary: Soon after the Vandenreich's attack and the death of Yamamoto, Shunsui takes it upon himself as the new Captain-Commander to release a select group of prisoners from Soul Society to aid in the fight. New faces also rise up from within the Gotei 13, but will these Shinigami defeat the Vandenreich or be swallowed by their own chaos? Rated M for language and mild violence. Lots of OC.
1. Shedding the Sheath

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach; it belongs to Tite Kubo. Please support him and the official release.

Translations you may want or need:  
Gegetsuburi - "Five-Formed Head", the name of Marechiyo Ōmaeda's Zanpakutō while in its sealed state and shikai state.  
Ujimushi no Su - "Nest of Maggots", an underground prison under the supervision of the Onmitsukidō's third corps known as the Detention Unit.  
Onmitsukidō - "Stealth Force", the second largest organization that Shinigami can join, and one of the three main branches of military in Soul Society. Their headquarters are one and the same with the 2nd Division's headquarters.

"Regular dialogue."  
_"Thoughts."_

**To carry a weapon is to become a target, regardless of one's intentions.**  
**The sword of peace is forever sheathed, but those who live by the sword shall die by the sword.**  
**So it seems that it is better to live by a sword that can be drawn than to die by a sword whose hollow ideals leave one defenseless.**

Shunsui continued to gaze dispassionately across Soul Society from his new office in the 1st Division Barracks. Aloof and uncharacteristically silent, his presence was like that of a fresh flower recently pressed between the pages of a book: soft, colorful, and not too flat, but undoubtedly dead nonetheless. One of his Lieutenants, Nanao Ise, had been quietly standing behind and a bit off to the side of him for the past fifteen minutes. Her eyes, downcast and full of care, were framed with worry. She dared not look at her Captain for fear of him returning her gaze and seeing the tears that she was trying so hard to fight back. Shunsui could indeed feel the strength of Nanao's sadness, but in respect of what little semblance of solidity she still held onto, he kept his back turned to her. No matter how badly he wanted to comfort her, now was not the right time. Regardless of how soft of a touch he offered her, the action would surely break her fragile spirit.

And so, he remained where he was, distantly watching the goings-on of his inherited kingdom. However, he felt less like a king with a crown resting upon his head and more like a king with his head resting upon a guillotine. How was he to defeat the Vandenreich with more than a third of his fighting force dead or injured? The kingdom which he had inherited was broken and the thoughts of its downfall pressed their ugly faces against the windows of his mind.

_"We can fix the buildings and replant the flowers and the trees, but the bodies that fill these buildings and the spirits that fill those bodies remain in ruins. What I have left at my disposal just won't be enough..."_

Shunsui tried to keep his attention focused on the cultivation of his plans of attack, but his thoughts continued to wander back towards Nanao.

_"So patient, and attentive,"_ thought the wistful Captain-Commander. _"My sweet Nanao..."_

Shunsui's remaining eye sharpened suddenly as he became aware of a newly arrived presence. It was Genshirō Okikiba, his other Lieutenant.

"_I need to get focused. Genshirō is skilled, but he still shouldn't be able to sneak up on me like that."_

After waiting a few more minutes, Shunsui finally decided to make his recognition of Genshirō's presence known. It had become clear that the lieutenant had no intention of leaving without first being granted an audience.

"Come on in, Genshirō," offered Shunsui with deceptive cheerfulness. Almost without thought, a fake smile stamped itself firmly upon his face as he turned to receive the lieutenant.

"Thank you, Captain-Commander," said Genshirō as he entered and immediately bowed.

The title stung Shunsui at his core and he winced inwardly.

"I would have come in earlier, but..." Genshirō paused, his words trailing off, merging onto the path of his eyes which had directed their gaze towards Nanao.

"Proper etiquette dictates I wait until my commander sees fit to allow my entrance."

"You're my Lieutenant, Genshirō; you can come into my office to talk to me whenever you feel it's necessary."

"Yes, Captain-Commander."

The title stung him once again, but Shunsui did what he could to ignore the uncomfortable feeling. Despite his internal displeasure, his outside appearance revealed nothing more than an innocent, cheesy grin which spread the lines of his face and forced his lone eye into a carefree slit.

"Relax, Genshirō. You can call me Shunsui if you like. I'd actually prefer it since we're all friends here. Now, tell me, are the preparations complete?"

"Yes, Captain-Co...er, Shunsui. The preparations are indeed complete. The guards have been informed of our impending arrival and the prisoners in question have been notified of their upcoming release."

Nanao's head shot upright at her co-lieutenant's words and she turned towards Shunsui with a fiercely concerned gaze, some of the fire returning to her eyes.

"Prisoners? What exactly is this about, sir?"

"Ah, didn't I tell you, Nanao-chan? I suppose it might have slipped my mind in all of the fuss that Central 46 made over it. Well, you see, I'm planning on releasing a few prisoners in order to bolster our ranks and get the Gotei 13 back in fighting shape. Isn't that-ugh," sputtered Shunsui as Nanao delivered an elbow to the side of his head. The blow knocked his sakkat off and caused him to fall heavily to the floor.

"Ah," Shunsui muttered, head in one hand as he propped himself up onto his elbow. His other hand was absentmindedly rubbing the newly created knot on his head, courtesy of Nanao.

"Are you serious?! What kind of hare-brained scheme IS that? It's like you just woke up this morning and said, "Heh, Soul Society is already in so much disarray, but is there any way that I can make it worse"? Yes! Yes, there IS a way you can make it worse and oh, how you have CERTAINLY found it! I mean, really, is there nothing that you're capable of doing without my guidance? You're like a child! Wait, are you...smiling?!"

Although he would have preferred to not have been hit for it to happen, Shunsui was glad that Nanao's burning spirit had been rekindled. Saying that it was nice to see her back to her old self again would be a vast understatement. He kind of missed being yelled at like this, so naturally, he couldn't help but smile at the sight of her berating him.

"Wipe that smile off of your face; this is absolutely nothing to be happy about! Do you even understand the repercussions of what you're planning?"

"Oh, Nanao-chan, you worry too much. Contrary to what you may believe, I know exactly what I'm trying to do. I've given the plan much thought, actually. Tell her, Genshirō."

For once, the co-lieutenant was completely caught off guard. His stolidly professional demeanor crumbled at the thought of being faced with Nanao's wrath if he misspoke.

"Um, well, you see, Miss Ise-,"

"Spit it out already!"

"The Captain-Commander, er, Shunsui, has detailed his plan and with all due respect, it makes a quite notable amount of sense," said the lieutenant hastily, his eyes averted.

"Hmph," replied Nanao, apparently not satisfied with an answer that could make her Captain's plan out to be anything other than pure idiocy.

Before she could turn back to Shunsui and begin berating him once again, she yelped and lost hold of her footing as she was pulled to the floor. Expertly wrapping his feet around her ankles, Shunsui had tipped Nanao off balance, causing her to fall into his chest as his arms closed around her.

"It's okay, Nanao, really. Everything's going to be okay," said Shunsui, smiling.

She wanted to yell; she wanted to kick him and raise her voice and become angry and yet...his smile was genuine. It was not composed only of happiness like most smiles were, no, the corners of his mouth were tinged with sadness. He knew that things would most likely not be okay, but he also knew that this was their best bet of surviving what was to come and that he was prepared to give up his life for the protection of her and everyone else in the Soul Society. His smile was that of a man already dead, one who was simply enjoying the smell of the flowers that lay atop his grave.

"Alright, but I'm going with you."

"I'd be disappointed if you'd have said anything else, Nanao-chan."

* * *

Flanked by Lieutenant Ise on his right, the Captain-Commander surveyed a row of prisoners consisting of two men and one woman. The prisoners were closely shackled to one another by their wrists and ankles. Their heavy and largely unorthodox shackles were made with sekki sekki rock, a spirit-sealing material known for its ability to absorb the spiritual power nearby Shinigami. Surrounding the Captain-Commander, his Lieutenant, and the prisoners was a tightly packed circle of no less than 50 guardsmen, poised and ready to strike. Their faces were impassive masks of discipline and their stances were mirror images of each other. They were so still that they did not even appear to be breathing.

If appearances were anything to be taken into account, it would seem that the guards of the Central Underground Prison had successfully managed to form an impenetrable wall of solid flesh. The dark, foreboding atmosphere did not sit well with the Lieutenant and it took all she had to keep herself from fidgeting. Nanao leaned towards her Captain, turning her head slightly as she spoke in an anxious yet hushed tone.

"I thought you said that there were going to be five prisoners, not three."

"Mhm, you're right. Two of them are currently being detained in the Ujimushi no Su. That whole situation is what Genshirō is away taking care of. No need to worry though, Nanao-chan; we're perfectly safe here. "

Nanao returned to her original position unconvinced, her curiosity far from sated. Her brow furrowed with worry as she looked onward at the dubious trio before her.

"Rinmaru Kanametsu, Izumo Miyamoto, Zetsumon Kaminomi," stated Shunsui in his usual lighthearted manner.

Having addressed them in order from left-to-right, all but the last of the three raised their head at the sound of their name and proceeded to fix their eyes upon Shunsui's form.

"As you know, you were all placed here under the protection of these fine gentlemen-," he said, smiling as he nudged his head towards a few of the surroundings guardsmen.

"-for almost 1000 years. What you don't know is that the one who imprisoned you is no longer with us."

At the utterance of his last sentence, Shunsui's face had become grave, his smile fading from his face and voice.

"So, that great bastard, Yamamoto, is finally dead, eh? I'd guess that makes you his replacement, huh," roughly inquired the prisoner on the far left known as Rinmaru.

Her head drifted back as a smile meant to mock and intimidate slowly crept its way across her face. Even in the dimly lit room, her eyes shone with an off-putting quality: her right iris was a pale, light green while her left iris was an electric blue. Standing at an impressive 6'4", Rinmaru Kanametsu was a thin, long-limbed woman with deceptive strength. She was once the former Captain of Squad Ten, but was imprisoned for treason for an attempt on the life of Captain Unohana after losing in a sparring session.

To her direct left was Izumo Miyamoto, former Captain of Squad 13, who was sentenced for treason as well when found harboring the fugitive Rinmaru and subsequently attacking members of the Gotei 13 in her defense. Though apathetic to nearly everything and everyone, Izumo's quick-wittedness and creatively unorthodox use of Kidō made him the mental equivalent to the physical prowess of any Kenpachi. Just as Rinmaru's greatest fault was her temper, Izumo had a rather disturbing fault of his own: the requirement of blood-letting to momentarily appease the unrelenting thirst of his Zanpakutō and gain access to its abilities.

Finally, to Izumo's left stood Zetsumon Kaminomi, former Captain of Squad 8, the youngest Soul Reaper to ever attain the level of Captain, and the only Soul Reaper in history to wield a Zanpakutō that has been deemed "insane". Because of his inability to control his Zanpakutō or bear the strain of its effects on his mind, Zetsumon ended up killing a number of Soul Reapers as well as several residents of the Rukongai before being summarily incapacitated and detained.

All three of these individuals were once considered the most dangerous of criminals and, due to their mistakes having occurred so early in the existence of the Gotei 13, the late Captain-Commander, Yamamoto, and the Central 46 thought it necessary to hide all records of their existence. Now, however, was no longer a time for secrets.

"Yes, you've got it; I'm the new Head-Captain, Shunsui Kyōraku."

"Ha, pretty name. At least you've seen some battle though, eh, Cyclops?"

"What? Oh! You mean the eye patch," blushed Shunsui in an offhand manner.

"It's so new that I'm still not used to it being there."

"Your nature is humorous, but deceiving. The color of your eye is grey and that is a sign of wisdom. You wield a daishō pair of swords which not only implies that you are quite the talented swordsman, but also that you are most likely ambidextrous as well. Those hairpins of yours appear to have been extremely expensive, though you wear your sandals without tabi: this shows that you come from a high-ranking family, but dislike the constraints of that type of lifestyle and prefer to live a more free existence. This preference for a looser kind of living is evident in your flamboyant nature portrayed by your colorful kimono, obi sash, and sakkat, all of which are unnecessarily conspicuous. Finally, using the previously stated flamboyance in partnership with your easygoing, carefree attitude, you seek to throw enemies and friends alike off-guard, effectively hiding your true, devious nature."

"A fine description, but not an accurate one, I hope. I've only been here for a few minutes and you act as if you already know me. Does that mean we're friends, Izumo-san?"

"...Indeed, I do believe it does," replied a rather sleepy sounding Izumo.

After testing the Captain-Commander with a cursory analysis, Izumo was satisfied with the quality of Shunsui's mind. It did not matter to Izumo whether or not Shunsui was a good person so long as he was a good leader. Having said all that he had wanted to, Izumo allowed his attention to wander and began languidly blowing his lengthy dreads out and away from his pale face. His eyes crossed as he inadvertently focused on a particular dread resting along the bridge of his nose.

"Ehh...you may have earned Izumo's trust, but don't think we're all that easily swayed," warned Rinmaru.

"If Izumo trusts him," said Zetsumon in a cold, detached voice, not seeing any need to finish his train of thought.

"Eh?! Come ON, you've gotta kidding me, Zetsu," retorted a shocked Rinmaru, unable to believe that he had accepted a stranger so willingly.

Zetsumon's only response was to look off to the side, his eyes scanning the darkness beyond the heads of the guardsmen. The young warrior so burdened by his own power was contemplating the thought of seeing his lieutenant once again. Mokuro Shinrai was his name. The well-missed lieutenant was the closest thing to family that Zetsumon had left. Unbeknownst to the young warrior, it just so happened that at that very moment in time, Lieutenant Okikiba was in the midst of releasing Mokuro as well as the former captain of the 4th Division, Saimon Tenketzen. As thoughts of the past beckoned to him, Zetsumon continued to wander farther and farther into his own mind, oblivious to the bitter feelings that were welling up inside of Rinmaru.

The irritated woman growled in detest, but seeing that any further resistance would be uselessly stubborn, she let herself fall to the floor. Plopping down into a partially cross-legged position, the disgruntled Rinmaru dragged her two counterparts to the ground along with her due to their connected chains not having much slack. Making a fist, she rested her chin upon it as she set her elbow firmly into her thigh. Sighing, she addressed Shunsui in a tired, defeated tone whose edges still smelt strongly of belligerence.

"For fuck's sake...yeah, alright, looks like I'm in too. Now, tell us what's happened that's gotten that bastard, Yamamoto, killed and those tight-asses in the Central 46 so scared that they actually decided to release us."

"Well, it seems that we have a bit of a Quincy problem on our hands."

* * *

Marechiyo Ōmaeda lay face-down on the floor, bloodied and beaten. The chain of his Gegetsuburi had broken somewhere near its middle and the shattered pieces of its spiked ball were scattered all around him.

"There was no need to release your bankai, although, the fact that you have even mastered it is something to be noted," said Captain Komamura, addressing the figure standing before the defeated body of Marechiyo.

"Indeed! And you beat him with one hit, no less. The scene that you have displayed before us took no longer than twelve seconds to develop. Interesting, very interesting," added an excited Captain Kurotsuchi.

"My shikai is only good for killing," began the figure with a deep, booming voice.

"My bankai is more versatile. He is my younger brother and I did not wish to kill him."

"A most noble way of thinking, Muramatsu Ōmaeda," said Captain Komamura as he addressed the figure once more.

As the Captain spoke, the figure now known as Muramatsu dissolved his bankai and sheathed his two wakizashi. Bowing, Muramatsu thanked the Captains of the Gotei 13 for their consideration. Throughout the ordeal, Captain Suì-Fēng had remained silent and impassive.

"I think we've seen enough," chimed in Shunsui.

"Muramatsu Ōmaeda, it is by my decision that you were granted the opportunity to test Marechiyo Ōmaeda in his ability to hold the rank of Lieutenant. We've all seen the result. Are there any Captains present that are not in favor of Muramatsu Ōmaeda replacing Marechiyo Ōmaeda?"

The strength of Suì-Fēng's silence pervaded all others.

"Then it is done. Muramatsu is now the Lieutenant to Captain Suì-Fēng of Squad 2 and will assume control of the Patrol Unit from this moment on. Now," began Shunsui, his single eye shifting between Muramatsu to a corner of the room shrouded in darkness.

"You'll be able to pick up your Lieutenant's badge back at the 2nd Division Barracks. On behalf of the Gotei 13, I would like congratulate you, Muramatsu Ōmaeda, on your promotion to Lieutenant of Squad 2 and you, Gagin Asumori, on your promotion to 3rd Seat of Squad 11. Good luck to you both."

Muramatsu bowed before the assembly of captains, his dark, squinting eyes flitting towards Suì-Fēng for the briefest of moments. Stepping out from the shadows of one of the corners of the room, Gagin joined Muramatsu and together they made their leave. An amused Gagin turned towards his larger counterpart as they walked away, the latter having gotten his attention with a low grunt.

"Why did you not challenge Renji Abarai? We both could have been Lieutenants."

"Yeah? But then I wouldn't have my lucky number, now would I? Honestly, I'm fine with being the 3rd Seat. Tch, that bitch, Tetsuzaemon, can fuckin' keep his precious spot as Lieutenant. Ha, It's not about status or rank, Muramatsu. That shit means nothin' to me. What really matters is power. Sure, I could have easily taken Tetsuzaemon's spot. Hell, I could've taken Sajin's if I wanted to. But why be the lieutenant or even the captain of a lackluster division when I could have solid pouncing ground in the strongest division there is? Nah, fuck the 7th Division. I'm here for one reason...and that's to defeat Kenpachi Zaraki. After I lay his broken body at my feet just like mine was laid at his, THEN you can talk to me about maggots like Tetsuzaemon."

Muramatsu's eyes narrowed in a flitting moment of scrutiny, but he said nothing. Muramatsu had noticed that Gagin had not acknowledged Renji's name and had instead transposed Renji's name with Tetsuzaemon's. What was an obvious error in speech to Muramatsu was but a natural, unconscious action to Gagin; it was his coping mechanism. It was as if Renji no longer even existed in Gagin's mind.

_"He still has not gotten over it,"_ concluded Muramatsu with a hint of pity in his thoughts.

_"When will you move on, my friend? When will you learn to be your own anchor in these unsteady seas?"_

**The grand illusion that is eternal peace has wavered, its distracting lights waning in the breeze.  
The breeze forms itself into a gale that steadily gains strength with each slash committed by our drawn swords.**  
**Together, we shed our sheaths and cast peace to the winds.**


	2. Spitting at Death

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. I wish I did, but I don't. Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo. A small allusion to a weapon from Rurouni Kenshin has been made in this chapter and I would like to say that I don't own that either; Rurouni Kenshin belongs to Nobuhiro Watsuki.

Translations you may want or need:  
Godai - "five great", a five elements philosophy used in Japan.  
Mizu no Seirei - "Spirit of Water", the fourth strongest of Zetsumon's five shikai releases.  
Kaze no Seirei - "Spirit of Wind", the second strongest of Zetsumon's five shikai releases.  
Hōzukimaru - "Demon Light", the name of Ikkaku's Zanpakutō while in its sealed state and shikai state.  
Sarashi - Cloth wrapped around the midriff to help protect swordsmen. Also used to bind breasts and keep them flat and in place during battle. Popularly wrapped around the arms and legs as well to protect the joints and points of contact.

"Regular Dialogue."  
_"Thoughts."_

**Death is a natural aspect of life.  
It can be redirected and even controlled to an extent, but it can never be stopped.**  
**Our lives will change and our friends will die, but what we do now adds meaning to forever.**

"Who the hell are you supposed to be," questioned a shouting Ichigo.

"Your fucking superior," responded an equally loud Rinmaru.

"Oh, dear," sighed Shunsui, rubbing the back of his head as he viewed the spark of what would be a heated encounter.

It hadn't even been five minutes since Ichigo and the group had returned from the Soul King's palace and yet Ichigo was already stirring up trouble with one of the new captains. Byakuya stood off to the side with Rukia who was busy shaking her head at Ichigo's antics. While the bickering continued, Renji moved to approach Shunsui.

"What exactly is going on here, Captain Kyōraku," asked the red-haired Shinigami.

"It's more like Captain-Commander now, actually," replied Shunsui.

His words had startled Renji and Rukia and even garnered the partial attention of Byakuya. Rinmaru and Ichigo, however, had continued arguing, utterly oblivious to anything not having to do with them yelling at each other.

"Mhm, I've had a bit of a promotion. A good number of people have as of late. I'm happy to say that the 13 Court Guard Squads are officially back to full strength."

"Really," questioned a surprised Renji. "Great! Where did all of these guys come from?"

"Depends: most of them came from the Central Underground Prison, but the rest were from the Ujimushi no Su."

Leaping far past being shocked, Renji and Rukia crashed to the floor in unison, the unexpectedness of Shunsui's words having toppled them. Byakuya merely turned away, his face as expressionless as always. Once the shock had worn off for the most part, Renji and Rukia shot back up to their feet and began taking turns yelling at Shunsui.

"Heh, you both are starting to sound a lot like Nanao," muttered the Head-Captain as he scratched the back of his head in a bemused sort of way.  
_  
"Although, it's not nearly as cute as when my little cherry blossom does it..."_

Finally, having heard enough, Shunsui put his hands up as a signal for the two Lieutenants to stop. Clearing his throat before beginning to speak, Shunsui allowed a soft smile to slide across his lips. He knew how tough it must be for them to comprehend everything that has gone on recently. Admittedly, even he was having trouble coming to terms with the present situation. One of his biggest concerns was having to replace Jūshirō whose illness had progressed to a more debilitating stage.

"Listen, a lot has changed since you've been gone, but that's a part of living. There's a meeting for the Captains and the Lieutenants. Both start in an hour. After those are over, we'll all be gathering at the Squad 11 compound since Kenpachi has been kind enough to lend us the use of his courtyard for some sparring."

"Sparring," repeated Rukia and Renji together, turning the word into a question.

"Mhm, sparring," said Shunsui, grinning widely now.

"The best two ways to get to know someone are through the crossing of swords and the sharing of drinks."

* * *

"Free Yourself, Kaze no Seirei."

Ikkaku and Tetsuzaemon faltered in their joint attack, frozen in complete shock at hearing Zetsumon Kaminomi, the new Captain of Squad 8, utter a command for the release of his shikai...for a second time.

"Oh, my," remarked Captain Kurotsuchi with raised eyebrows.

"That was rather unexpected. I wonder, is there a limit to the number of shikai this boy is able to activate?"

"There is," responded Mokuro Shinrai, the Lieutenant of Squad 8.

"Zetsumon's Zanpakutō is...different. Its unique abilities allow him access to five separate shikai forms with varying powers: tsuchi, mizu, hi, kaze, and sora; earth, water, fire, wind, and heaven. You have already seen him release the water form of his shikai, now, witness the wind form."

Ikkaku and Tetsuzaemon were suddenly on the run, backtracking quickly as Zetsumon charged forward with unbelievable speed. The young Captain was now wielding two katana connected at a single hilt to form a sword with two, parallel blades. Both blades were so close to one another that even if an attack from the oddly formed sword did not kill immediately, the wounds created by it would be much more difficult to properly repair. While the guard remained solid, the blades themselves were made of condensed wind, its edges moving rapidly along the length of each blade much like a chainsaw. Zetsumon wielded his double-bladed sword with both hands, slashing and thrusting so swiftly that he was able to keep two, Lieutenant-level Soul Reapers on the defensive.

"Such speed! I take it his Zanpakutō follows the hierarchy of the Godai in terms of power as well, yes?"

"Yes, you are correct."

"So, that would make his current shikai form the second most powerful out of them all."

"Yes."

"Hmm...interesting, very interesting. I wonder if each of his shikai forms manifest themselves as separate beings."

"They do. That is part of the reason behind his...troubles when dealing with them in the past. Instead of the usual one mind or even two minds, his Zanpakutō has five and they each have their own conflicting desires."

"Ah, so his choosing of these past two forms were not truly his choices, were they? It was his Zanpakutō that chose for him since the two shikai forms he has wielded so far were probably the only ones willing to cooperate with him. Ha! So very intriguing."

Feeling pleased with himself and with his findings, Captain Kurotsuchi called Nemu to his side and began filing off orders and information to her in a flurry of low, excited tones. It was apparent that Captain Kurotsuchi had thought himself to have stumbled upon a goldmine of data; the look in his eyes was like that of a scientist anxious to dissect a new specimen. Mokuro already did not trust this man who headed The Department of Research and Development, but distrusted the current look in his eyes even more. Returning to overseeing the battle between Zetsumon and the two Lieutenants, Mokuro silently resolved to keep Captain Kurotsuchi as far away from Zetsumon as possible.

"Now," cried out Tetsuzaemon as he barely managed to parry a thrust meant for the center of his chest.

"You're mine! Split," yelled Ikkaku as his Hōzukimaru split into a three-sectioned staff.

While Tetsuzaemon parried, Ikkaku jumped over his counterpart, placing himself directly over Zetsumon. Thrusting fiercely, Ikkaku slipped the first two sections of his staff between the blades of Captain Kaminomi and proceeded to wrap the staff pieces around the wind sword to lock the weapon in place. Stepping forward, Tetsuzaemon prepared a slash of savage proportions, aiming it right at the Captain's midsection.

Calmly, Captain Kaminomi turned his wrists ever so slightly, the cutting edge of his blades now facing sideways. The Captain's Zanpakutō suddenly blew strong winds outward, effectively dislodging itself from the snare of Ikkaku's three-sectioned staff while simultaneously blowing away Ikkaku and Tetsuzaemon. Dazed, both fighters were thrown backwards several feet from the force of the winds, but before either of the lieutenants could regain their composure, each had the point of a sword held to their throat.

"Well, well, looks like I'm not the only one with a Zanpakutō capable of separation," said Ikkaku, smirking despite his apparent defeat.

"Yeah? Why do you seem happier about that than you should," growled Tetsuzaemon, begrudgingly lowering his sword.

"Because, if anything, his sword was at your throat way before he had one at mine."

As the conversation between Ikkaku and Tetsuzaemon dissolved into a string of insults that quickly trailed into a heated argument, Zetsumon proceeded to seal his Zanpakutō, subsequently returning to Mokuro's side by means of Shunpo. The young Captain looked to his brown-skinned guardian and Lieutenant, awaiting his review.

"Good control. It was well thought out of you to rely only on the shikai forms that you would be able to control. You also managed to draw out Kaze no Seirei by gaining her interest through battling two foes at once. You have learned much. Soon, you will learn to fully cooperate with the minds of your Zanpakutō instead of merely controlling them."

Stoic and unblinking, Zetsumon gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head to let Mokuro knew he understood before summarily retreating to the roof of one of the nearby buildings to meditate. Mokuro surveyed his captain from afar, making sure to keep an eye on Captain Kurotsuchi as well. Shunsui made his way to the forefront of the courtyard, his strides slow, but long and effortlessly graceful. Nanao was trailing not too far behind him, a large book clutched in one hand while her other hand was busy pushing her falling glasses back up the bridge of her nose. The grounds of the 11th Division were in horrible shape: huge gouges were cut into the earth from Izumo Miyamoto's giant shuriken, deep holes about the size of a human head dotted the courtyard as a result of Rinmaru Kanametsu's rain of energy blasts, and an overgrowth of vegetation due to the abilities of Saimon Tenketzen's Zanpakutō had left a miniature forest covering half of the land.

Finding a small, undamaged spot underneath the shade of one of Tenketzen's created trees, Shunsui lowered himself to the ground, beckoning for Nanao to join him.

"Ohhhhh, Nanao-chaaaaaaan," wailed the Head-Captain, trying to get her attention.

Remaining resolute in her position which was decidedly not on the ground with her Captain, Nanao ignored Shunsui, prompting him to get on with the next order of business.

"Ah, well, now that we all have a feel for everyone's strengths and weaknesses, Nanao here can set you up with your teammates. Since this is no ordinary enemy, I thought that it'd be prudent to switch things up. Our counterattack will work best if we're able to surprise them with some new arrangements."

Readjusting her glasses and then clearing her throat slightly before beginning, Nanao listed off the teams quickly and efficiently. Not pausing once, she completely ignored any complaints or side comments committed by the Soul Reapers.

"Team 1: 3rd Division Captain, Rinmaru Kanametsu, 11th Division Captain, Kenpachi Zaraki, and 11th Division 3rd Seat, Gagin Asumori. Captain Zaraki will take the lead."

Briefly glancing at a disinterested Kenpachi, Rinmaru blushed gently and began tugging at the sarashi on her arms.

"Team 2: 7th Division Captain, Sajin Komamura, 2nd Division Lieutenant, Muramatsu Ōmaeda, and 9th Division Lieutenant, Shūhei Hisagi. Captain Komamura will head this team."

"Yes, of course," responded Captain Komamura and Lieutenant Ōmaeda at the same time. Shūhei said nothing, but looked pleased with the team chosen for him.

"Team 3: 8th Division Captain, Zetsumon Kaminomi, 8th Division Lieutenant, Mokuro Shinrai, and Substitute Soul Reaper, Ichigo Kurosaki. Captain Kaminomi is your leader."

Neither members of Squad 8 deigned to acknowledge one another, both knowing all that the other was feeling without needing to communicate. However, Ichigo looked confused and began asking questions which were dutifully ignored by the silent duo.

"Team 4: 12th Division Captain, Mayuri Kurotsuchi, 13th Division Captain, Izumo Miyamoto, and 3rd Division Lieutenant, Izuru Kira. Captain Miyamoto will head the team."

"How unexciting; I was hoping to spend some valuable time completing my research on the intriguing, young Captain and that peculiar Zanpakutō of his," remarked Captain Kurotsuchi.

"That is only if you managed to get past Mokuro," said a half-asleep Izumo, barely getting the words out before his mouth was wide open, badly caught in a deep yawn.

"Team 5: 5th Division Captain, Shinji Hirako, 6th Division Captain, Byakuya Kuchiki, and 2nd Division Captain, Suì-Fēng. Captain Suì-Fēng will be this team's leader."

"Oh, joy. This is going to be quite the adventure," quipped Shinji, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Mm," replied Byakuya, turning away.

"Just try to keep up. I'm not slowing down for either of you," said Suì-Fēng with more than a fair amount of steel behind her words.

Shunsui began to talk again, ceasing all side conversations. He made it known that every Shinigami whose name had not been called would be staying in the Soul Society with him to protect it. He also made sure to let those that were staying behind know that their job was just as important as the job of the attacking force. There was a heavy possibility that the Vandenreich would attempt a second strike.

"Where are these bastards anyway, huh? I've heard all of this talk of battle and not a damn thing about where the battle's even going to be at. Spill it," demanded an irritated Rinmaru.

Just as Shunsui had begun to address the annoyed woman, Captain Kurotsuchi interjected.

"In Hueco Mundo, of course. It's the only logical place that they could be, after all."

"Yeah? Well, when the hell are we leaving then?"

This time, it was Shunsui that answered.

"Tomorrow. We leave tomorrow to face and destroy the Quincy."

**With death looming before us, we spit into the face of inevitability.  
Avenging the fallen, protecting the memories of those who have passed on, and inspiring future generations to live longer than we did...  
What is our reason for living if not to spite death in our every endeavor?**


	3. You Are a Stain

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach...like, at all. Tite Kubo is the one that owns Bleach so show your love and appreciation to him.

Translations you may want or need:  
Tenken - "Heavenly Punishment", the name of Captain Komamura's Zanpakutō when in its sealed state and its shikai state.  
Kokujō Tengen Myō'ō - "Vidyaraja of Kalasutra's Heavenly Punishment", Captain Komamura's bankai.  
Futakuchi-onna - "Two-mouthed Woman", the name of Lieutenant Ōmaeda's Zanpakutō in its sealed state and its shikai state. It is also the name of a demon used in Japanese folklore.  
Soldat - "Soldier", the military name for the Quincy's skilled soldiers.  
Jinzen - "Sword Meditation", used by a Shinigami to force their mind to become one with their Zanpakutō.

"Regular dialogue."  
_"Thoughts."  
__**"Zanpakutō dialogue."**_

**Just as blood stains the blade of the swordsman, it undoubtedly stains his mind as well.  
All souls that have been slain imprint themselves upon their killer.  
So it could be said that a swordsman is not simply himself, but rather, he is the product of everyone that he has killed.**

"Where the hell is everybody," asked Rinmaru.

"Long gone," replied Gagin, a few pinches of dry sarcasm sprinkled over the two words.

"We WERE the last ones to get here," he added.

"What the hell kind of tone is that?"

"Hell this, hell that: you seem pretty obsessed with hell. Want me to send you there," inquired Gagin, a sadistically twisted smile slithering its way onto his face.

"Eh?! Your ass is-"

"Both of you, just shut up," commanded Kenpachi, pushing Rinmaru and Gagin apart and out of his way as he proceeded to walk between the pair.

"If you're gonna fuckin' fight then do it already. Otherwise, I'll kill you two myself if you don't stop talking. I've got some unfinished business to take care of. Keep up or fall behind; it doesn't matter as long as you don't get in my way."

The impressive Shinigami continued to walk further into the desert of Hueco Mundo, not even bothering to turn back once while he was talking or after he had finished. Gagin and Rinmaru glared viciously at one another for a few still moments before the latter snorted irritatedly and then began jogging lightly after Kenpachi. Rolling his eyes as she left, Gagin sighed dramatically, but began to jog after her. Although he didn't like being pushed around, he knew he was still not powerful enough to assert himself to the towering figure that was Kenpachi Zaraki. He could, however, still push the limits of Rinmaru's temper and so he made sure to beat her to Kenpachi's side.

The eyes of Kenpachi Zaraki held a fresh light in them. The same shine of blood lust and glory through battle were still there, but now, there was something new added to the mix; there was something more to his soul. A voice calling his name caused his ears to prick slightly. He turned and looked over both of his shoulders, quickly reasserting his initial belief that the call had not come from either member of his team.

_"So, it's you...what was your name again?"_

**_"Don't act as though you have forgotten, Kenpachi Zaraki. My name is-"_**

* * *

"Bakudō #21, Sekienton," recited Muramatsu, casting a billowing cloud of enlarging, red smoke.

The smokescreen swiftly engulfed Muramatsu, masking his physical form completely before being swept aside by the large hand of Captain Komamura's stolen Kokujō Tengen Myō'ō. The enormous swipe made by the Quincy-controlled bankai effectively dispelled the smoke, but failed to catch the crafty Lieutenant.

"Damn, I really thought I had you that time," pouted the Quincy, Bambietta Basterbine.

From seemingly out of nowhere, one of Shūhei's scythes came careening towards the face of the giant, but was blocked by the giant's sword at the last moment.

"Fight fair!"

"Says the girl who stole Captain Komamura's bankai," retorted Shūhei, his face grave as he was pushed back by a skyscraper-sized fist.

"Ignore her, just keep attacking," shouted the Captain.

"Oooh, the doggy's mad! C'mere, little doggy. I've got a stick for you."

With fearsome speed, the Stern Ritter brought down her blade, the giant avatar behind her responding appropriately. Barely stepping out of the way in time, but still having been caught in the ensuing blast from the impact of the attack, Captain Komamura was thrown to the side violently. A large boulder that had been shaken up from the ground flung itself towards him, though the experienced Captain managed to regain his composure, right himself in midair, and smash the large piece of earth with a solid backhand. Skidding as he made contact with even ground once again, Sajin waved off Shūhei's concerns.

"I'm fine, keep going!"

Lieutenant Hisagi hesitated slightly, but recommenced his charge with renewed vigor.

Bakudō #62, Hyapporankan," cried out Shūhei, manifesting a rod of bluish white, glowing energy in his right hand.

Thrown at one of the giant's feet, the single rod multiplied rapidly into a group of identical rods which attempted to pin down the giant where it stood. Lieutenant Ōmaeda appeared at the ankle of the bankai quickly, but not quickly enough. The bankai stepped out of the way, breaking the spell just before he was able to land his strike. Barely ducking a right hook, Lieutenant Hisagi prepared another rod after seeing the behemoth break free of the first spell. Both Lieutenants had been switching between being the bait for Kokujō Tengen Myō'ō, one striking once the other had created a working distraction. Captain Komamura was at ground level attacking the Quincy directly. She was too nimble for him though and was making child's play out of his every move, dodging almost effortlessly before using his own bankai to strike back.

"So here we are: a doggy that's got nothing left but his bark, a bald-headed fatty, a skinny twig whose weapons look scarier than he does, and the lovable Stern Ritter that's going to dispose of you all."

"Those are large words," panted Sajin, tightening the grip on his sword before initiating another attack.

"What can I say," began Bambietta.

"I'm feeling larger than life."

Cocking her own sword back with a smile, the Quincy playfully winked at Captain Komamura before setting her face into a much darker expression and then proceeding to release a powerful, downward strike. It was apparent that she meant to end things now.

_"There,"_ exclaimed Captain Komamura inwardly.

His eyes widening as he opened his mouth and let loose a bone-chilling roar, the Captain took a quick step backwards to brace himself, pulled his sword backwards as well, and then stepped forward and brought a savage swing of his blade with him.

"Roar, Tenken!"

Making contact with the flat of his bankai's blade, Captain Komamura's shikai managed to cause the giant to miss while adding the momentum of his own strike to that of the giant's. With that amount of momentum combined with Bambietta's inability to properly control Kokujō Tengen Myō'ō, the giant began to topple. Just as the Captain was about to signal the two Lieutenants to attack now while they had the opportunity, Muramatsu surged forward, a speeding, 6'10½" mass of flesh. Undoubtedly more toned and muscular than his younger brother, Marechiyo, he was proving himself to be much faster as well.

The sound of his deep voice hid underneath the raucous caused by Kokujō Tengen Myō'ō as it fell, but Captain Komamura's sensitive ears heard it well enough.

"Devour in secret, Futakuchi-onna."

Rushing to the giant's side, its midsection painfully exposed due to its sword arm still being raised, Muramatsu had already unsheathed his two wakizashi which had now been transformed into a pair of keen hook swords. With his right arm extended over his head while his left did the opposite, Muramatsu brought the weapons around in a slashing, clockwise motion until they ended at the others original starting point.

"What," asked Bambietta under her breath, twitching slightly as an icy cold shiver ran through her being.

Instantly after the circle had been completed, a hole that spanned the entirety of Kokujō Tengen Myō'ō's torso appeared, tunneling through the armor and flesh of the giant and disintegrating everything in its path. A hollow cylinder now ran up through the lower area of the giant's side, traveling diagonally through its heart before ending at the top of its shoulder. Muramatsu emerged on the other side of the hole an instant later, he and his clothes completely dry. It wasn't until his feet had touched ground again that the blood finally began to flow. The Stern Ritter made a gurgling noise, Kokujō Tengen Myō'ō's weakness taking its toll. Unbeknownst to the naive Quincy, any damage inflicted upon Kokujō Tengen Myō'ō is reflected onto its wielder. Her undoing was her cocky dependence on a technique that she did not fully understand.

Bambietta Basterbine drew her last breath before she and her stolen bankai had even finished falling to the ground.

_"So, that is the power of your shikai. You were right to refrain from using it on your brother,"_ remarked an awestruck Captain Komamura.

_"If I'm not mistaken, your abilities could surely be compared to those of a Captain-class Shinigami."_

Looking back, Muramatsu locked eyes with Sajin, almost as if he could tell what the Captain was thinking.

"Let's go," ordered Captain Komamura, slowing turning away from Muramatsu's piercing gaze.

"And stay on your guard. I doubt that the other Stern Ritter will be as foolhardy and easily tricked as this one was."

_"I hope they are though, for the sake of us all. If a Lieutenant of Muramatsu's caliber was able to bring down my Kokujō Tengen Myō'ō with such ease, it fills me with fear to even consider the full, destructive power of Captain Kaminomi."_

* * *

Dozens of dead Soldat littered the floors of the Vandenreich's headquarters, their bodies still warm as the blood flowed freely from their cadavers. Mokuro was sitting down amidst the mass grave, his legs crossed as he studiously cleaned his sword. He paused in his work only for the briefest of moments, his eyes darting towards Zetsumon with an almost paternal care. The young Captain had yet to unsheathe his sword and Mokuro was making sure to keep it that way for as long as he possibly could. Zetsumon stared blankly into the face of a dead Quincy who, coincidentally, was the first to die by Mokuro's blade. The Quincy's eyes were open wide as was his mouth, pain and terror carved plainly into his motionless features. Without realizing it, Zetsumon was swallowed by the glassy-eyed stare of the dead Quincy and allowed himself to lose control of his mental being.

**_"This one could have had a family. A wife. Kids, even."_**

A short, stout, boulder-of-a-man spoke to Zetsumon from atop a raised throne of moss-covered, crudely cut stone. The muscles of his forearms bulged menacingly as he continuously grabbed pebbles from a pouch at his waist and calmly crushed them between his thumb and a varied finger. The man looked down upon Zetsumon with fatherly admonishment.

_"No, not now," _muttered Zetsumon in horror, his eyes widening as he began to realize where he was. His head on an unsteady swivel, he swiftly cast his gaze across what was now an ornate, albeit decrepit, throne room.

**_"You talk as if he is not a soldier. Death is a part of war," _**smoothly interjected a slim, yet curvy woman.

With auburn hair which flowed elegantly down her back and over her breasts, a pair of large, blue eyes speckled with flecks of green, and a voice as warm as an ocean breeze, she was easily the most beautiful woman Zetsumon had ever seen. She was also a vindictive bitch whose opinions were as shallow as they were easily changed. She was Mizu no Seirei, the water form of his Zanpakutō and the most annoying incarnation out of the five forms his sword possessed.

One of the many problems that Zetsumon struggled with in the past was unknowingly synchronizing with his Zanpakutō. Unlike most Shinigami who require jinzen in order to mentally connect with their sword, the minds of Zetsumon's sword are so powerful that any prolonged lapse in focus would allow his mind to be overlapped and forced into his Zanpakutō's realm. Whereas others meditate to make contact with their sword, the young captain requires meditation to actually prevent contact with his swords. Being trapped underneath the weight of five other minds was not something Zetsumon dealt with well.

**_"It's my favorite part,"_**cackled Hi no Seirei as fire erupted from his open mouth. Death had always been a topic that got him easily excited.

**_"Silence, you brute. Your presence was not requested," _**ordered Mizu no Seirei.

_"Nor was yours!"_

**_"Aw, look, the kid's upset. Again. Good job, guys," _**pouted Kaze no Seirei from atop her cloud-covered throne.

The wind incarnation floated in circles above Zetsumon's head. She started blowing shapes and signs made out of clouds at Zetsumon: flowers, suns, and phrases like "it'll get better, kid" drifted into his face in a steady line. Swatting them away, the young captain looked about frantically for his voice of reason and stability, but as per usual, Sora no Seirei's throne was empty. The heaven incarnation had only ever shown itself when Zetsumon had been at the brink of death and it was safe to say that it would not be making any changes to that routine.

**_"Are you going to cry now just like you always used to, boy," _**inquired the stout Tsuchi no Seirei as he crushed another pebble.

_"Shut up...shut up..."_

On the outside, passiveness. On the inside, turmoil. His mind was reeling at the strength of their voices. He knew that it couldn't be this hard for other Shinigami and hated himself for his freakish abnormalities. It felt like he was cracking again. It felt like he was going to fall apart just like the last time. He shut his eyes tightly and covered his ears with his hands. Thoughts of the blood he had spilled rushed towards him at full speed. The blood of his fellow Shinigami, the blood of innocent civilians, the blood of-

"Breathe, Zetsumon," called out Mokuro.

Blinking quickly, Zetsumon found himself back in reality, still staring at the dead Quincy. Following his Lieutenant's advice, Zetsumon realized that he actually had not been breathing at all. His chest now feeling constricted, Zetsumon took a few unsteady steps backwards, tearing his eyes away from the face of the Quincy's corpse. Mokuro appeared behind his captain with Shunpo, his steady hand resting on the shoulder of his superior. Having just finished the cleansing of his blade, he squeezed Zetsumon's shoulder firmly, but with care, and urged the captain to move onward and forget whatever thoughts had pervaded his mind.

Hueco Mundo was indeed a treacherous place, one whose chaos could easily shatter Zetsumon's fragile connection to the last vestige of his sanity. To breathe is what Mokuro Shinrai had told his Captain to do. However, it was Lieutenant Shinrai who truly needed to breathe; he was suffocating underneath the crushing weight of seeing Zetsumon fall back into the hellish pits of uncertainty and fear. Mokuro needed to protect his Captain and to do that, he would kill anyone and everyone in his path. He vowed to take on the very leader of the Vandenreich if that was what it would take to keep Zetsumon safe.

Mokuro began to stare solemnly at his captain as he followed him out of the room of dead Soldat. Looking at the figure of the captain who reminded him so much of his own son, he vowed to do things right this time.

_"I will not lose Captain Kaminomi too. I cannot lose him too."_

Mokuro's mouth set itself gravely as he recalled the day that he had to kill his son. His son had gone mad after a routine visit to the World of the Living took a turn for the worst. A hollow had ripped two of his son's classmates apart, devouring their flesh and spreading their blood across the grass. Upon his return to Soul Society, Mokuro's son was a mere shadow of his former self and, soon after, the boy went on a killing spree. Slitting the throats of his fellow trainees as they slept in order to "save them from the Hollow", he managed to kill nine before Mokuro stopped him.

_"It was the only way. I know it was. It had to be the only way."_

It was because of this that Mokuro held so dearly onto Zetsumon. It may not have always been apparent to others, but Mokuro did love his captain. He loved his captain like his own son.

Together, the two Shinigami walked, each attempting to clear their minds of unwanted thoughts and fears, unaware that the greatest fear they will ever face watches them from the shadows.

"These two should be fun," whispered Stern Ritter F, Äs Nödt.

**The past of a swordsman is far more difficult than his future will ever be.  
It is not the battles that may occur later that haunt. It is instead the battles that have already transpired which cause the greatest nightmares.  
As the blood of the dead stain the hands and mind, doubt stains the heart.**


	4. The Sleeping Demon Stirs

Disclaimer: I don't own it, I don't own it, I don't own it...Bleach, that is. I don't own it, but Tite Kubo does.

Translations you may want or need:  
Gravedad - "Gravity", the name of Varit Mischa's Resurrección.  
Chinogishiki - "Ritual of Blood", the name of Captain Miyamoto's Zanpakutō when in its sealed state and shikai state.  
Saiketsu Purīsuto - "Blood Collection Priest", the name of the hidden ability of Captain Miyamoto's Zanpakutō while in its shikai state.

"Regular Dialogue."  
"_Thoughts."_

**It is whispered that all souls are born evil.  
Voices speak in hushed tones of the darkness that binds humanity's vision, the cloth of sin that blinds our eyes to the Almighty Light.  
The rumors beget truth: we are not creatures fighting to become our best selves, but rather, creatures who are fighting to not become our worst.**

"I am beginning to wonder why the Vandenreich have not killed you. I see no use in your existence...although, I do admit that I know nothing of your particular Resurrección. The continuance of your choice to not release it may prove a fatal inaction," droned Captain Miyamoto, his eyebrows raised in a less-than-halfhearted concern.

The frustrated, male Arrancar that he was battling deigned only to answer him with grunts, groans, and heavy-handed slashes. The attacks, however, proved to be ineffective as Captain Miyamoto exerted little to no effort in his dodging of them. It was obvious that the Arrancar had never fought a swordsman as skilled as Captain Miyamoto, especially since the captain fought with the unorthodoxy of wielding his sword in his left hand.

"You must have been one of Aizen's earlier experiments."

Angrily, with teeth gritting, the Arrancar tried to use his Sonído to flank Captain Miyamoto and attack him from his offhand, but the captain responded skillfully in turn.

"Bakudō #8, Seki."

The path of the Arrancar's blade was on course to behead Izumo, but was intercepted by a well-placed spell. A small orb of light blue energy had materialized at the back of Izumo's right hand which was raised and level with the side of his head. The orb of energy not only stopped the Arrancar's sword from going even further, but also managed to strongly repulse it as well. As the Arrancar stumbled, struggling to regain proper footing, Izumo was already reciting his next spell.

"Bakudō #9, Hōrin."

Bringing his index and pointer fingers together, the Captain Miyamoto flicked his wrist towards the enemy causing an orange-yellow tendril to rapidly snake its way outward from his fingers and ensnare the Arrancar. Flicking his wrist towards himself now, the Arrancar was forcibly pulled towards yet another one of the Captain's spells.

"Hadō #1, Shō."

As the Arrancar came careening towards Captain Miyamoto, the captain lazily reached across his chest with his left hand. Extending his index finger, a small burst of energy was shot from it at the utterance of his Kidō and connected solidly with the forehead of his defenseless opponent.

"That was for wasting my time. You either have an exceptionally powerful Resurrección or you are simply the product of the imperfect beginnings of Aizen's experiments and have survived thus far by way of sheer luck. So, that means that you are either wasting my time by not releasing your Resurrección-," spoke Izumo, pausing to yawn.

"-or by attempting to fight me when you are nowhere near my level of strength. Which of those two options apply to you?"

Izumo then began reeling in the long tendril of energy still wrapped tightly around the Arrancar. His opponent struggled, but made no progress in concerns to escaping. The Arrancar took in Captain Miyamoto's form with a shaky gaze: eyes watering and head pounding from the previous strike.

Captain Izumo Miyamoto stood at an average-looking 5'9" and only weighed 121 pounds. His skin was pale and creamy, giving off a perpetually drained appearance while still retaining a look of starved regality. With bloodshot eyes that held heavy bags underneath them, thin lips, eerily white teeth that were all sharpened to a point, and a long, downturned nose, Izumo's features reminded most that saw him of vampires. This darkest notion increased notably once his jewelry was observed. Whether it were his necklaces, the bracelets on his left wrist, or even his earrings, each had multiple vials attached to them that were filled to the brim with blood. To those who were too afraid to ask whose blood filled the vials and why he even had vials of blood in the first place, Izumo's motives became dark mysteries.

His bankai was still unknown to all save for Captain Rinmaru Kanametsu, the late Captain-Commander Yamamoto, and the current Captain-Commander, Shunsui Kyōraku. The majority of his life was hidden in secret and the rest of it was based purely upon the speculation of fearful, gossiping Shinigami. When he wasn't taking one of his many naps, all could agree that he seemed amiable enough, but most just could not bring themselves to look past the perceived darkness surrounding him. It was believed that he could snap at any given moment and because of that, he was given the nickname "The Sleeping Demon". His laziness and apathy were as renowned as his vampire-like appearance and tendencies, however, waking The Sleeping Demon with rumors of his less than desirable qualities was not something many were keen on doing. No Shinigami wanted to be the reason that this demon was awakened.

"Well then?"

Izumo prodded the Arrancar with another forceful attack using Shō. This time, Izumo struck the captive Arrancar squarely in the sternum causing the Arrancar to cough painfully as air was forcefully expelled from his lungs.

"It is of no use to us, Captain Miyamoto; I have long since analyzed the Arrancar and their limited strengths. Their abilities are actually quite shallow and disappointing. Dispose of it and let us be on our way," hissed Captain Kurotsuchi.

"Proceed without me, Captain Kurotsuchi. Go with him, Lieutenant Kira."

"Hmph, do as you please," sneered a bemused Captain Kurotsuchi as he turned and walked away without a second thought.

Lieutenant Kira stared worriedly at his team leader, but left The Sleeping Demon to his prey. Quickly following Captain Kurotsuchi down a lengthy corridor, the Lieutenant shuddered inwardly at the thought of what Captain Miyamoto might be planning to do.

"_If even half of the rumors are true...well, I wouldn't want to be that Arrancar. I at least know THAT much. Anyone strong enough to replace Captain Ukitake is surely a force to be reckoned with. I do remember hearing something about him being a poor tradeoff though. There were rumors that said he was just as sick as Captain Ukitake and that he could "drop dead too at any moment...but there's nothing more I can do now. I have my orders. All I can do is hope that the rumors of his strength turn out to be more truthful than the rumors of his weaknesses..._"

* * *

Captain Miyamoto continued to talk to the Arrancar, faking a meaningful conversation until he knew that his comrades were out of earshot.  
Sighing once he became sure that they were, he let his shoulders drop and thankfully let his posture worsen. A faint smile trickled across his lips as he wet them with a languid tongue.

"Now then, I can speak to you with the full breadth of my thoughts. I have rid us of my teammates. You no longer have a reason to hide your powers."

"What was that," asked the Arrancar, feigning naivety with a nervous smile.

"No need to play dumb. Your superiors would not have kept you alive if you were not going to be of use to them. There is no doubt in my mind that you have extraordinary powers. The only reason you refrained from unveiling them was because you knew that with three experienced Shinigami here, you would undoubtedly lose your life without gaining anything for yourself or for those whose flag you fight under. I can respect that you are intelligent enough to realize the idiocy found in wasted effort. I have just removed two Shinigami from the equation and, with their absence, your reason for not fighting also vanishes."

"Why...why help me? Why give me a fighting chance?"

"I require a learning curve. Although you were not a part of Aizen's final, ten Espada, your continued existence shows that you have worth beyond the majority of your peers. This means that you are powerful enough to teach me about Arrancar like yourself, but not powerful enough to make this informative encounter a deadly experience for me."

"You're bluffing."

"I most certainly am not. In our current situation, there would be nothing more for me to gain if I lied to you."

Captain Miyamoto released his Bakudō and freed the Arrancar with no hesitation. Astonished, but not completely out sorts, the Arrancar hopped back swiftly, putting distance between himself and the his enemy.

"You're not as smart as you try to sound, Shinigami. Letting me go was a bad move. It's just you and me here now. Your friends are long gone."

"You may have heard me speaking, but you were not listening to what was being said," stated Captain Miyamoto.

"My teammates leaving was a part of my plan; I meant to do it from the beginning. I intended to study one of you Arrancar close-up and in action. I'm curious; the thought of a Hollow attaining the powers of a Shinigami has crossed my mind several times, however, I have yet to see that thought become reality. With the present opportunity at hand, I wish to see this reality with my own two eyes."

"Reality, huh? Ha...your reality is going to seem like a nightmare when I'm done with you."

Holding his Zanpakutō in front of him horizontally, the Arrancar let go of it and allowed the blade to float in midair. An overly smug look born of a confidence in his own power quickly grew upon his face as he recited the words to release his Resurrección.

"Dominate, Gravedad."

Immediately, his Zanpakutō began twisting and spinning as it gravitated around him, steadily gaining speed with each trip. After a few seconds, the sword became nothing more than a whirring blur, encompassing the area surrounding the Arrancar. Laughing now, the Arrancar took a step forward and snatched his Zanpakutō from the air as if it had been motionless the entire time. However, his Zanpakutō was now no longer a sword and had instead transformed into a thick, heavy-looking, glossy, black gauntlet. Levitating a few inches beyond the reach of the gauntlet's fingertips were five small orbs of shimmering light, a sixth orb larger than them all combined floating just beyond his palm. At his touch, a black shadow shot out from inside the gauntlet and enveloped him in an instant. His laugh dissipated as he put on the strange gauntlet on his right hand causing the darkness coating his body to shift uneasily.

"Shinigami," began the Arrancar, his voice much deeper and carrying a long echo.

Cracks spread swiftly across the darkened expanse of his body as the Arrancar flexed his gauntlet-clad hand menacingly. The orbs moved and dodged, spreading apart from one another and refusing to touch like magnets of the same charge.

"You really shouldn't have sent away your friends."

Without warning, the black armor that had encased him then shattered and released a blinding light. After the light had subsided, his new form was revealed: a sleek, dark purple jumpsuit, a futuristic-looking set of silver armor which covered his chest, upper back, shoulders, forearms, lower legs, and feet, a pair of eyes completely black except for the pupils which were white, and a mane of long, shaggy hair that extended halfway down his back. The Arrancar's body had also filled out considerably, adding onto him what appeared to be another 200 pounds of pure muscle while granting him at least another 4 feet of height. The Arrancar now towered over the 5'9", 121 pound Izumo.

"I am Varit Mischa. And you? Ha...you are MINE, Shinigami."

Pointing with the index finger of his gauntlet-clad hand, Varit confidently singled out the captain. Izumo's eyes narrowed slightly as he noticed that the orb in front of Varit's pointing finger had suddenly turned black. Before he could solidify any thoughts on the matter, Izumo felt a strong pressure building rapidly upon his chest, pressing into him and attempting to push him backwards. He strained against the unknown force as Varit laughed condescendingly.

"Ha! Is that all you can do, Shinigami? Is that all that the Gotei 13 are capable of?! You were so tough before...look at you now. Look at you now!"

Skidding backwards on his heels, Izumo struggled to stand his ground valiantly, but ineffectively. It felt as though a boulder was being shoved into his chest by some unseen giant. It felt as though gravity itself was exerting it's almighty force upon his slowly yielding body. This, however, did nothing to faze the experienced captain. Hidden were the fast-paced thoughts that were busily making their way back and forth across his strategic mind.

"_A direct assault has a 50/50 chance of solving a problem. Even if the problem is too complex to be properly countered by a plan as simple as a direct assault, a direct assault can still serve as a viable distraction to the enemy. Currently, my direct assault, attempting to push back against an unknown force with physical force, is failing. However, my enemy now believes that he has won. Given the apparent pride he has in concerns to his powers, I have gained approximately 20 more seconds to counter the problem before he ends his gloating and increases the force with which he is attacking." _

Attempting to slam his fists together in front of his chest, Captain Miyamoto's motions were stopped by a solid, yet invisible object roughly the size of a watermelon.

_"Excellent. This is physical; palpable, and if I can touch it, that means that it can be destroyed or hindered. Now, to test my initial theory..."_

Ceasing his struggle against the invisible force, Captain Miyamoto allowed himself to be rocketed backwards through the air. The distance between him and a hard-looking, stone wall was lessening rather quickly. Calmly, the well-deserved Captain of the 13th Division recited the words of his release.

"The living swim together in the blood of their enemies, the dead having since drowned in the endless sea of red, Chinogishiki."

An impressive burst of a sickly-looking, crimson reiatsu flooded from Captain Miyamoto and, as it dissipated, the shikai release of his Zanpakutō was revealed. In his left hand was an over-sized shuriken with thirteen points that each had a slight curve at their end. The weapon was merely an enlarged version of his tsuba, glimmering with a now clearly visible, evil light. Clutched in his right hand was a weighty, double-bladed, rectangular machete which fanned out slightly towards the end of the blade. The hilt was wrapped in cloth as white as a bleached skull. At the bottom of the hilt lie an ornate, silver demon's hand. The hellish sculpture grasped at the air menacingly, its sharply sculpted talons poised to rend flesh from any available source.

Slowly taking in the transformation, Varit's eyes widened as a part of the fear he first held upon meeting Izumo reentered his system. Taking a step forward, the Arrancar thrust his hand farther out desperately. The orb of his middle finger assimilated with the orb of his index finger and the force of his attack instantly doubled.

"Useless," muttered Izumo, a lightened shade of annoyance beginning to dye the edges of his voice.

Swiftly throwing the shuriken, it careened through the air at a cutthroat speed, whirring with malicious intent.

"Not a chance," yelled Varit as he dashed out of the way.

While the Arrancar was distracted, Izumo swiftly plucked the vial from his right earring and poured its contents over the blade of his machete. Clueless as to what had just been done, the Arrancar was attempting to regain his confidence and began to boast.

"That was weak! Your robe tells me that you're a Captain, but-"

His boasts were cut short as the shuriken doubled back and cleanly sliced his left arm off at the shoulder. Mere seconds away from plowing Captain Miyamoto through the wall, the Arrancar's concentration faltered and his hold on his powers disappeared. Showing off his body control inadvertently, the Captain flipped backwards until his feet were in line with the wall before nimbly catching himself against the wall and then rocketing off of it. His massive shuriken returning to his hand, the Captain caught it with three fingers: his index, middle, and thumb. Clutched by his remaining two fingers were three vials that he had plucked from one of his many necklaces.

Yawning widely, Captain Miyamoto braced himself to attack by twisting slightly to the right and bringing his shuriken behind his back. Suddenly rushing forward with Shunpo, he appeared before the shocked and agony-filled Varit much faster than the Arrancar had anticipated. The captain would no longer give the Arrancar time to think or attack. The only thing that Captain Miyamoto had time for now was blood.

Swinging widely, he brought his right arm over powerfully so as to decapitate the Arrancar with his weapon. Activating the largest of his orbs, which hovered over his palm, Varit turned his powers on himself. The action pulled him backwards rapidly, barely allowing him to dodge Izumo's attack and return with one of his. However, Varit faltered in his counterattack as he suddenly realized one, crucial fact: the shuriken was not in Izumo's hand. Confused, startled, and panicking, Varit activated his remaining three orbs all at once. An immense amount of weight was sent down upon Izumo, which sending him crashing towards the floor, but not before he had already released the three vials from his hand. As Captain Miyamoto plummeted, his shuriken became visible; it had been hovering behind him, following closely, hidden ever since he had first moved it behind his back.

Spinning towards its target, Izumo's shuriken smashed the three vials, instantly absorbed the blood within them upon contact, increased its speed, and then proceeded to cleave Varit's remaining arm off of his body. The pain of it all did not even register at first; the Arrancar simply stood there in shock, staring forward blankly as his arm and his power fell away from him. Then he began to scream.

Fortunately, he did not have to bear the pain inflicted upon him for too long: Izumo had already prepared the final strike to end his life. Having skillfully executed shunpo, Izumo appeared behind Varit and, frowning lightly, pressed the demon-handed hilt of his sword against the back of the Arrancar's neck. Varit did not even react to this new, cold touch. The Arrancar did nothing more than continue to scream as blood rushed freely from his wounds. Izumo caught his shuriken as it came whizzing back to him, not taking his eyes off of Varit for even a moment. This was his third least favorite part about his Zanpakutō, but he still knew what needed to be done.

"Saiketsu Purīsuto."

The silver demon's hand came to life and forcefully grabbed hold of Varit's neck. Without pause, a short, thick, metal rod shot forth from the the palm of the demon's hand, severing the brain stem along the spinal cord and ending Varit's pain instantly. Body slack, the flow of blood leaving Varit's wounds slowed and then stopped altogether. Izumo's frown became heavier, the corners of his mouth downturned in disgust. His Zanpakutō, Chinogishiki, glowed red now, brightening and fading in rhythm like a heartbeat of sorts. Once it was finished, he sealed it and returned it to its sheath, snapping the sword back into place just as Varit's body had hit the ground.

"_Chinogishiki: my narrow-minded, blood-thirsty, ruthlessly gluttonous Zanpakutō. My hatred of you will never subside. So long as your thirst for blood remains, regardless of if it is for my blood or for the blood of someone else, I will never happily call upon your name. We may work well together, however, that means absolutely nothing...yes, of course...it means absolutely nothing."_

Being ruled by a nearly unbridled thirst for blood, the abilities of Captain Miyamoto's Zanpakutō can only be activated through the process of applying blood to the blades. Both weapons of his Shikai state are connected and so, what is applied to one blade is applied to the other. When poured over either weapon, blood acts as an enhancer and augments their powers. Although his Zanpakutō responds best to the tasting of its master's blood, it can function regardless of what kind of blood it is given if the volume of blood is increased. This is why Izumo keeps so many vials of his own blood on hand. Without them, he would not be able to properly use his Zanpakutō.

Needless to say, Chinogishiki is indeed an extremely self-minded sword. Staying true to its name, Izumo must either appease it with the blood of his slain enemies after battle or with fresh blood taken from himself on the spot. Refusing the whims of his Zanpakutō have proved to bring nearly fatal consequences in the past. And so, The Sleeping Demon merely frowns and continues to complete his duties. Draining the blood of others, draining his own blood...nothing but a sea of red waves washing over him. Sleep eludes him. Nightmarish images haunt his every moment of rest. Izumo Miyamoto, plagued by his own powers, but unwilling to let go of his role as a protector, sheds blood to learn how to better protect the world from more bloodshed.

"_Nothing but red..."_

**The whispers turn into shouts as the rumors gain the weight of truth.  
The Almighty Light which shines through all sins does not disappear, but rather, the blindfolded simply forget that the light was ever there.  
We are all demons and there is nothing more that we can do besides find our own justification for why we kill.**


	5. Finding the Truth

Disclaimer: Sadly, Bleach does not belong to me. It does, however, belong to Tite Kubo. Please thank him for all of his excellent work.

Translations you may want or need:  
Hirenkyaku - "Flying Screen Step/God Step", an advanced, Quincy, movement technique equivalent to the Shinigami's Shunpo and the Arrancar's Sonído.

"Regular Dialogue."  
_"Thoughts."_  
_**"****Dialogue From Someone's Memories."**_

**Everybody lies,  
No one tells all of their secrets,  
And those are two of the only truths left in this world.  
**

"Ichigo Kurosaki."

Startled by the familiar voice, Ichigo skidded to a halt and turned around to see who had called him.

"Byakuya? What are you doing here?"

"I should be asking you that same question."

"Huh, what do you mean?"

Confused and a bit irritated at how the Head of the Kuchiki Clan always seemed to turn things back around on him, Ichigo scratched the back of his head and made a face of annoyance. Byakuya merely stared through Ichigo, face expressionless and eyes as cold as Captain Hitsugaya's Hyōrinmaru. Without a word, Byakuya used Shunpo to effortlessly flicker past the Substitute Shinigami and proceed deeper into the hallway.

"What? Hey, Byakuya, wait up!"

With only a few well-placed steps, Ichigo had caught up to Byakuya and had begun striding alongside the captain.

_"Hm...he's become much faster even since the last time I saw him fight," _concluded Byakuya.

"Why'd you just run off like that?"

"Where are the Captain and the Lieutenant of your team?"

_"Does he always have to be so cold and ignore me like_ _that,"_ wondered Ichigo.

Usually, Ichigo would have said something rude, but this time, he allowed his annoyance to slip away as he remembered the mission at hand.

"I went on ahead without them."

"Of course you did."

With only four choice words from the Captain, the mission at hand was now repositioning itself at the back of Ichigo's mind as his annoyance made another attempt to move to the forefront.

"What's THAT supposed to mean? It's not like you're any better than me; you're not with your team either."

"I am only following the orders given to me. The only reason that I am here is because we all knew that you would attempt to charge into battle on your own."

"So pretty much what you're saying is that you're my babysitter..."

"If that is how you wish to see it."

_"I bet Shinji got a fuckin' kick out of hearin' about this. He was probably the one that decided I needed a babysitter in the first place," _concluded Ichigo.

_"Great, just great. At least it's not Shinji himself though. I'd rather have an emotionless statue for company than a joker that never knows when to stop talking. The good thing is that Byakuya definitely won't slow me down-"_

_"_Are you ready, Ichigo Kurosaki_,"_ asked Byakuya, his eyes directed straight ahead.

"Yeah, I was born that way," replied Ichigo with a battle-ready smirk as he and Byakuya increased their speed and charged forward.

However, neither Ichigo nor Byakuya were truly ready for what was awaiting them. Ichigo had unknowingly lied and both Shinigami would soon face the destructive truth at the end of the hallway...

* * *

"Good job. Really, that was pretty smart of you back there. Pairing Ichigo with Byakuya, I mean."

As he spoke, Shinji eyed Suì-Fēng intently, but hid his scrutiny behind the mask of a laid back, joking smile.

"As hot-blooded as we both know Ichigo is, pairing him with a level-headed captain like Byakuya was good thinking. And things on our side have been going great as well. With my Sakanade distorting our enemy's perception and your Suzumebachi wiping each of them out in no more than two strikes, we've made short work of these Quincy and Arrancar. Kind of a bummer, really; I was hoping for something more exciting. Hm...you don't talk much, do you?"

Silence was the only answer he receieved; Suì-Fēng had been pointedly ignoring Shinji since the moment Byakuya had departed from the group.

"Yeah, well, that actually might turn out to be a good thing. From what I've heard, Muramatsu is the strong, silent type."

"If you don't have anything to say pertaining to our mission-"

She disappeared suddenly, her shunpo effortlessly precise, and reappeared above a doorway just as it was being opened. Reaching down through the widening crack, Suì-Fēng struck an unsuspecting Quincy in the crook above his right collarbone. Flitting away quickly, she dove diagonally to the wall opposite her and, rebounding instantly, propelled herself towards the door at a straight shot. Slipping her hand through the crack, she struck the Quincy once more in the same spot as her initial strike. In one smooth motion, she pulled her arm free of the doorway, spun away from the door, closed it with a soft push, and returned to Shinji's side with Shunpo.

"-then don't bother opening your mouth."

"Ooo, testy," replied Shinji, clicking his tongue.

Swift and virtually undetected, the pair had swept through lengthy corridors and hidden rooms of the Vandenreich's headquarters. So far, they had encountered no one of considerable strength and so their minds were free to roam as they worked. While Shinji had set his mind towards examining Suì-Fēng, she had dutifully set her own mind towards leaving nothing substantial uncovered for Shinji to examine. However, no amount of silence was going to protect Suì-Fēng from the keen insight and scrutinizing eyes of Shinji and no amount of broken silences was going to sate Shinji's appetite for comical conflict or knowledge gained. The pair of Captains worked well together only from a physical viewpoint.

"_Ah, maybe I should have gone with Ichigo,_" thought Shinji lackadaisically.

"_I should have sent him to meet up with Ichigo,_" thought Suì-Fēng in annoyance.

It would be too late before either of them knew of the truth hidden within their statements.

* * *

"Are you the guy?"

"Ha, if you mean "the guy that's going to end your life" then yes."

Kenpachi merely stared through his aggressor passively and unimpressed; bored with the response he was given. Kenpachi had already asked nine other enemies his same question. Neither Rinmaru nor Gagin knew who or what exactly Kenpachi was looking for, but so far, nothing had been good enough for him. Without warning, Kenpachi's gaze snapped downward to his sword, which he then proceeded to stare at deeply. A deep sigh found its way out of his chest and into the open air. He turned his eyes away from his sword and continued to walk down the corridor, completely ignoring the Quincy in front of him. This was the tenth time Kenpachi had asked his question and, just like the other nine, Gagin would pick up where his captain had left off.

"Don't you dare ignore me, you piece of scum," commanded the Quincy, his anger bubbling.

"Good advice," stated Gagin in a menacingly lowered tone.

Eyes wide, the Quincy froze in shock. He had not even seen Gagin move and yet there, behind him, was where the red-haired Shinigami was now. Gagin's heated breath rode the back of the Quincy's neck and as Gagin exhaled, the Quincy could feel his Shinigami adversary smile. The Quincy could feel death smiling behind him.

The Quincy sped forward in an attempt to create space and then began to turn to face Gagin, manifesting a bow made up of reishi in his left hand as he did so. With a visible smirk of condescension, Gagin cleared the distance between them and, appearing at the left side of the Quincy, delivered a crushing blow to the back of his shoulder. His partially constructed bow shattered in his hand as his shoulder splintered under the force of Gagin's fist.

"Tch, your Hirenkyaku is shit," stated Gagin, talking as he took hold of the Quincy.

Grabbing the Quincy underneath his left armpit, Gagin dug fingers deep into the Quincy's broken shoulder. Another wave of pain surged through the Quincy's body causing him to gasp and choke slightly as his head lurched forward.

"Compared to my Shunpo, it's a joke...and not even a good one at that. You Quincy types carry bows, but the bad thing about those is that they're only good if you can draw em'. So I'm bettin' you're not much for this close-range shit."

Without warning, Gagin proceeded to shove his hand through the Quincy's back until his entire forearm was visible on the other side, protruding from the Quincy's chest. It was like watching the entire, grotesque blooming of a crimson flower consolidated into a fraction of a second. Allowing his enemy a moment to take it all in, Gagin flexed his fingers theatrically before waving hello. Then, pushing deeper still, he reached upward and grabbed hold of the Quincy's neck. Lifting the helpless Quincy into the air, Gagin placed his other hand around the back of the Quincy's neck, enveloping it completely now. Grasping at the Shinigami's hands, feet kicking, eyes wide in horror: the Quincy saw death grinning before him.

"End it," muttered Rinmaru through gritted teeth, a frown of disgust emerging upon her face.

Gagin just stared happily at the squirming Quincy he held firmly in his grasp, oblivious to all else and enraptured with the target of his tortures.

"End it, Gagin," said Rinmaru, louder now.

Gagin began to shake his victim in all directions, playfully jarring the Quincy. Grasping at the Shinigami's hands, eyes closed in pain: the Quincy heard death laughing before him.

"End it, you fucking prick! End it," yelled Rinmaru as she drew her sword.

Grasping at the Shinigami's hands, feet kicking, eyes closed forevermore: the Quincy felt the cold sting of death's kiss. _Snap! _Letting his hold go slack, Gagin pulled his arm from within the Quincy's chest and watched with glee as the body crumpled into a heap before him. He stared intensely at the cadaver he had so lovingly created, a concrete smile carved into his manic face. He was like a child who had just received everything that was on his birthday list.

Taking a deep breath, he looked up, closed his eyes, and let his mouth hang open loosely. After a few moments of this, he reopened his eyes, sparked a fresh smile, and stuck a hand between his robes to adjust himself. Killing the Quincy had put him in a state of near ecstasy.

"You're disgusting piece of shit, you know that," questioned Rinmaru.

Gagin replied by cocking his head back while tilting it to the side before then making a kissing motion in her direction.

"Ugh, you...forget it. You're not even worth it," said Rinmaru decidedly.

Sheathing her sword, she began to slowly walk backwards at first, her eyes trained on Gagin, before she turned her back on him and used Shunpo to rejoin Kenpachi Zaraki. Captain Zaraki was actually quite far ahead of the two Shinigami. He had not stopped walking since he had first brushed past the now dead Quincy. Having calmed down somewhat, Gagin also rejoined Captain Zaraki. Although Kenpachi took no notice of either Shinigami's presence, Rinmaru's eyes darted towards Gagin when he appeared. She was apparently drawn to the blood that coated his right forearm, fresh and dripping steadily from his fingertips_. _

"_At most, he's an animal,_"thought Rinmaru.

"_I love a good fight just as much as the next person, but shit...this guy is past that. This isn't just a love or even an obsession for him; this is his addiction. He needs this: gets off on it, even. He's just like HER...just like the 1st Kenpachi, that bitch, Yachiru Unohana."  
_

Rinmaru's thoughts strayed to the late Captain Unohana: the same person that she had once attacked after losing a duel, the same person that had gotten her imprisoned in the Ujimushi no Su, the same person that had been the first to fill her with true fear and the wanting of strength to overcome that fear.

"_And to think that Gagin reminds me of that devil-woman. As much as I hated her, I almost hate the thought of Gagin being anything like her even more._"

She couldn't help but examine Gagin as her mind began to close in on thoughts of him_. _Standing at 5'10½" and weighing 183 pounds, Gagin Asumori was of an average height and maintained a slim, yet extremely toned physique. A rebel of sorts, Gagin's clothes spoke loudly of his personality. Having found the wardrobe of a Shinigami to be somewhat constricting, he had both sleeves ripped off at his shoulders, both pant leg's shredded to just below his knees, and wore no tabi or sandals.

Tattoos similar to Renji Abarai's spanned every visible section of his body: the palms of his hands, the soles of his feet, and his face being the only exceptions. In fact, it was not uncommon for Gagin to make lewd remarks about his tattoos extending down into his lower regions as well. More than a few women in the Rukongai and Soul Society have found out for themselves if there was any truth to his remarks. This being said, Gagin was not someone most could hang around for more than a couple of hours or the odd, stray night. Muramatsu was the only person that could honestly be called a friend. Gagin's lack of a filter for his words is the main reason for his lack of longstanding companions.

Thick and wildly majestic, a mane of hair, which was dyed a red color similar to Renji's hair, rode down the middle of his back before meeting at a spiky point. Part of his hair on the sides was allowed to hang in front of him and sat proudly upon his collarbones, the few inches at the end hanging and resting on the top of his chest. Although quite striking at a first glance, the effect was somewhat dispelled when his black roots were visible. When the his dyeing habits were commented on by others, it was not uncommon for Gagin to reply by asking if he could fill in his roots with the blood of whoever it was that he was talking to. His thick eyebrows were also be dyed red, the vibrant color going well with his dark brown eyes. His face was long and highly angled, cat-like really. All of this, in conjunction with his tanned skin, small, tight lips and wide mouth, worked to make him look like "a fox like a Captain Komamura" as some would say. Others would say he only looked like a dirtier, wilder version of Renji; a cheap copy at best. Everyone continually made comparisons of him to other Shinigami...

"See somethin' ya like," asked Gagin as he directed his gaze upon Rinmaru.

"Not a damn thing."

"Good. 'Cause you're not my type."

Turning away from Rinmaru and focusing his eyes at the back of Kenpachi's head, Gagin gradually slid into a vat of toxic thoughts.

"_The way she was staring at me...she was fucking comparing to someone. Kenpachi, maybe. The hell does it matter who it was though? The hell does it matter what I've done if these idiots keep seeing me as another person's clone?"_

At one point in time, Gagin had looked up to Renji Abarai, even before Renji had become Lieutenant of the 6th Division. He grew to idolize and style himself after Renji much like Rikichi, an unseated officer of the 6th Division, had done.

Having to fight nearly every single day for his life while growing up in the 80th District of North Rukongai, Gagin quickly grew into a feral mindset and drew upon the strength of his victories and survival. However, living in the last district of North Rukongai offered one indomitable opponent: Kenpachi Zaraki. Of course, Gagin was bitterly defeated and left for dead. The rogue, Kenpachi, had refused to kill "a swordsman no longer able to hold his sword". Molded by his experience and the desperation to kill Kenpachi, he joined the Gotei 13 and later latched onto who he felt was a kindred spirit. He latched onto Renji, someone like him who appeared as raw and unchecked by others. Little to no proficiency in Kidō, a physical Zanpakutō as a weapon, and a tenacity to become better that few others possessed: truly, this was someone Gagin could connect with. Even Renji's need to surpass his superior, Byakuya Kuchiki, mirrored Gagin's own ambitions of defeating Kenpachi.

Then Renji lost: not just once, but twice.

Renji lost to a mere Ryoka and then to his Captain, the man that he had steeled himself to defeat. And as if that wasn't bad enough, that same Ryoka then managed to somehow get the better of Kenpachi.

"_A fucking Ryoka..._"

Renji was shit to Gagin then. Less than shit; he was something less than waste. He was less than garbage, less than trash, worth less than the blood that flowed through his useless veins.

After the events caused by Ichigo and the other Ryoka, Gagin's tattoos grew more numerous and he allowed his hair to grow even longer. Gagin hated Renji for betraying an image he aspired to recreate, he hated Ichigo for making a mockery of his life's mission, and he hated Kenpachi. He hated Kenpachi twice over: once for defeating him and once more for being defeated by a Ryoka.

"_Pitiful..._"

And now, this: the Quincy, the Vandenreich, this war...all of it was interfering with Gagin's true intentions. But what were his true intentions, really? He wasn't even able to face the truth. Thinking back to his conversation with Muramatsu after the two of them had been promoted, Gagin realized that he had completely avoided his friend's question.

"**Why_ did you not challenge Renji Abarai? We both could have been Lieutenants._**"

That is what Muramatsu had asked him. And how had he responded?

**Yeah?_ But then I wouldn't have my lucky number, now would I? Honestly, I'm fine with being the 3rd Seat. Tch, that bitch, Tetsuzaemon, can fuckin' keep his precious spot as Lieutenant. Ha, It's not about status or rank, Muramatsu. That shit means nothin' to me. What really matters is power. Sure, I could have easily taken Tetsuzaemon's spot. Hell, I could've taken Sajin's if I wanted to. But why be the lieutenant or even the captain of a lackluster division when I could have solid pouncing ground in the strongest division there is? Nah, fuck the 7th Division. I'm here for one reason...and that's to defeat Kenpachi Zaraki. After I lay his broken body at my feet just like mine was laid at his, THEN you can talk to me about maggots like Tetsuzaemon_**"

Gagin had transposed Renji's name and position with Tetsuzaemon's. He had completely erased the notion that Renji was a part of their conversation. He had not even been able to bring himself to utter Renji's name.

"_Pitiful_..._fuckin' pitiful._"

"You're the guy, aren't you," asked Kenpachi Zaraki for the eleventh time.

The voice of the Captain Zaraki rang out clearly, breaking Gagin from his reverie.

"Yeah...yeah, you're the guy we've been lookin' for," said Kenpachi, gaining more and more confidence with each passing second.

The large Captain of the 11th Division drew his sword without waiting for a response.

"You're the guy that's supposed to help me figure out how to use this thing," explained Kenpachi as he shifted his sword horizontally in his grip and began eying the blade.

Repositioning it vertically and in front of him, Kenpachi demonstrated a quick, diagonal swipe.

"Come on then, I don't have all day."

"No, I don't suppose you do," replied a disembodied voice.

The lines of a doorway suddenly appeared along the left-hand side of the wall a few feet in front of Kenpachi and his group. The portion of the wall within the lines was then sucked backwards, nothing but darkness filling the space that remained. After a moment's pause, a figure stepped from within the darkness, a Quincy...a Stern Ritter.

"Askin Nakk Le Vaar, Stern Ritter "D": The-"

"Save it. I've already wasted too much time today. Hey, you two, get out of here unless you wanna die."

Gagin and Rinmaru looked at each other, unsure of what to do at first, but quickly coming to the decision to leave. The Stern Ritter watched them go with a bemused expression stamped upon his face.

"You sure that was a smart-"

The Stern Ritter's question was stopped short as Kenpachi's sword came careening towards his face. Just barely stepping backwards in time, the gelled collection of hair which he had styled to hang down in front of his face were sliced off inches from his hairline, leaving a light cut along the expanse of his forehead.

"Pipe down and fight. I can't have you dying on me before I learn the truth about this sword."

**Not all lies told are intentional.  
There are some secrets left unknown to all, including those to whom the secrets belong to.  
Grasping onto as many truths as are left in this life is a task that is needed, but never completed.  
**


End file.
